The oak mistletoe or "missel" was held in high veneration by the ancient Druids, who, regarding its parasitic character as a miracle and its evergreen nature as a symbol of immortality, worshipped it in their temples and used it as a panacea for the physical ailments of their followers. When the moon was six days old, the bunches were ceremoniously cut with a golden sickle, by the chief priest of the order and received with care into the spotless robes of one of the company, for if they fell to the unholy ground, their virtues were considered lost. Then, crowned with oak leaves and singing songs of thanksgiving, they bore the branches in solemn procession to the altars, where two white oxen were sacrificed to the gods. The custom of "kissing under the mistletoe" dates back to the days of Scandinavian mythology, when the god of darkness shot his rival, the immortal Apollo of the North, with an arrow made from its boughs. But the supposed victim being miraculously restored to life, the mistletoe was given into the keeping of the goddess of affection, as a symbol of love and not of death, to those who passed beneath it. A berry was required to be picked with every kiss and presented to the maiden as a sign of good fortune, the privilege ceasing when all the berries were gathered. One of the most beautiful legends of the Black Forest, in Germany, is that of the origin of the chrysanthemum, or "Christ-flower." On a dark, stormy Christmas Eve a poor charcoal-burner was wending his way homeward through the deep snow-drifts under the pine trees, with a loaf of coarse black bread and a piece of goat's-milk cheese as contributions to the holiday cheer. Suddenly, during a brief lull in the tempest, he heard a low, wailing cry, and, searching patiently, at length discovered a benumbed and half-clad child, but little more than an infant in years or size. Wrapping him snugly in his cloak, he hurried onward toward the humble cottage from which rays of light streamed cheerfully through the uncurtained windows. The good "hausmutter" sat before the fire with her little ones anxiously awaiting her husband's return; and when the poor, frozen waif was placed upon her knee, her heart overflowed with compassion, and before long he was comfortably warmed and fed, while the children vied with each other in displaying the attractions of the pretty fir tree, with its tiny colored tapers and paper ornaments. All at once a mist appeared, enveloping the timid stranger, a halo formed around his brow and two silvery wings sprang magically from his shoulders. Gradually rising, higher and higher, he finally disappeared from sight, his hands outspread in benediction, while the terror-stricken family fell upon their knees, crossing themselves, and murmuring in awestruck whispers, "_The Holy Christ-Child!_"